


Sidekicks

by jatty



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, Kid Fic, M/M, sadfluff, three-shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-28
Updated: 2015-07-01
Packaged: 2018-04-06 14:21:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4225071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jatty/pseuds/jatty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank doesn't want to spend three weeks of his summer vacation at Tranquil Maples Camp for Kids. The whole thing feels so juvenile! He's in sixth grade. He doesn't want to spend his days making crafts and walking in the woods... At least Gerard's unique spin on each of their crafting tasks is enough to keep things interesting. </p><p>Unfortunately, they don't get long to stay friends. After leaving the camp, Gerard fails to keep in touch and Frank--through years--commits to the idea that he'll never see his old friend again. </p><p>That is, until he agrees to be a counselor at a camp during his sophomore year at college and there's a familiar face at the counselor's induction meeting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lloyd

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FranklyMrShankly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FranklyMrShankly/gifts).



> For my husband. I said I'd write something nice and failed dismally.

Frank sat in the passenger seat of his mom’s car, arms crossed defiantly over his chest—a profound pout consuming his lips. His parents were divorcing and their fights had reached new extremes—even their phone calls to each other were intense despite Frank’s father having moved out. To “spare” him the torment of hearing the shouting matches as the paperwork was finalized and the custody arrangement was decided upon, his mother was sending him to _camp._

It was a three week long “getaway” where he would “get” to stay in “real” log cabins with other boys his age. He could make friends, his mother insisted. Good friends. He should be “happy,” his mother said, that it wasn’t a religious camp. There would be no Sunday or Saturday night service, no scripture classes—just time with nature, time for crafts and hikes. 

Frank didn’t care. It would suck anyway. He wasn’t going to have fun in the woods. He would get bitten by mosquitos and have to pull ticks off his skin every night. He prayed there would be real toilets and not stupid port-a-pots or outhouses. He was a human being—not an animal. He didn’t want to crap in the woods…

“This is the last time I’ll see you for three weeks and you’re not even going to talk to me?” His mother asked.

“Whose fault is that?” Frank muttered. It was a phrase his parents had spat back and forth at each other for months. Once, late at night, he’d heard his parents in the kitchen screaming at one another. His mother had said something about Frank—something about them needing to stop fighting because they had a son to care for. His father’s response had simply been “Well, whose fault is that?”

Frank never told his parents what he’d heard, but he hadn’t seen his father the same way since. They shouldn’t fight because they had a son, his mother had said. Whose fault was that? His father had asked… 

That’s what Frank was…a fault. He was the reason they were together at all—the reason they hated each other…

It hurt him, but he wasn’t about to let on that he was so weak. So instead of crying to his mother or the few friends he had back at school, Frank kept quiet—kept his head down and scowled whenever someone demanded his attention. 

“You need to quit with this bad attitude,” his mother said. 

Frank rolled his eyes and continued to pout as he stared out the window at the passing scenery. His heart filled with dread as he laid eyes on the first on the large, wooden signs.

“Tranquil Maples Camp for Kids.” 

Frank rolled his eyes at how cheesy it sounded. He could hardly even imagine how terrible this place was going to be.

( ) ( ) ( )

He’d made it through week one without much excitement. His room was shared with nine other boys—none of whom he really cared to talk to—and the next cabin over had another ten boys in it. Then, across a long path, were the lodges for the girls. There were only fifteen girls at the camp, totaling thirty-five kids. Not a very impressive number, but Frank guessed parents realized this place sucked and stopped sending their kids to it. 

The camp counselors were all over the top on the cheesy, “we’re here to help you have fun” gambit and Frank couldn’t stand any of it. He was twelve and “Craft Time” felt so juvenile to him. The girls just _loved_ craft time though… They were always excited to draw and paint and _sew._

Frank didn’t care for any of it.

While the other kids did their ordered crafts, Frank sat at his little table and picked at the art supplies—his eyes fixed on a boy down the table from him.

His name was Gerard. 

Like the girls, Gerard enjoyed the designated art time. Like Frank, however, he enjoyed adding his own spin on things. When they were supposed to make lanyards, Gerard made a miniature noose. When they were supposed to make cloth dolls, Gerard made a little demon creature that he then fit the noose around. When they were supposed to draw tree leaves based on which ever one they were given, Gerard put his own spin on it. He made his leaf the map of a fantasy city where all of the veins were roads and every discolored dot on the drying leaf was a major building.

Frank had wanted to approach Gerard that day and show his admiration for the drawing, but someone else beat him to it. Someone who was rude and mean and took the drawing and called Gerard a dork. 

It let Frank down that Gerard merely hung his head and took the abuse. He didn’t even say anything back to the other boy. He just sat there until a counselor came over and made the boy give Gerard the drawing back.

As soon as it was on the table, Gerard crumpled it up in a ball and threw it away as they left the craft tables in favor of a “late” night hiking trip. 

Frank didn’t know why, but as they’d left the lodge, he picked up the crumpled paper Gerard had thrown away and kept it in his pocket. 

In fact, every time Gerard was teased and threw away his artworks, Frank picked them out of the trash and pocketed them. He hid them in his pillowcase when his roommates weren’t watching him, but never really had any time to admire them. At camp, there was no alone time. Not a minute. Not ever. There was always someone in the room with him, always someone else in the next toilet stall or in the next shower. 

He _hated_ that. He hated the cramped quarters and that someone was always watching him. All he wanted was to look at Gerard’s artwork up close and admire the little details… But if the other boys caught him with Gerard’s work, the “ooooo Frankie’s gotta crush!” banter would start up again.

He just _barely_ survived that nightmare in the fourth grade when a girl named Terry kissed him on the playground. He hated that girl—still did!—even though she moved away the next year. He didn’t want to be picked on for liking Gerard’s art.

Liking his art wasn’t the same as having a crush. It just wasn’t. Even if Gerard’s long hair was cool and Frank felt himself start to blush whenever the other boy would run his fingers through it—pushing his bangs out of his face as he painted or drew. 

( ) ( ) ( )

The first time Frank ever got the idea to talk to Gerard—the _idea!_ not the _courage,_ because Frank was far from too shy to talk to Gerard—was during a hike. Gerard had his little demon doll hooked to his back belt loop, hanging from its lanyard noose. Gerard, who was terribly out of shape and a sweaty mess after only scaling a couple of hills on the trail, was breathing too heavily and loudly to notice the quiet jingle that came when the doll fell from the noose and bounced onto the ground—the bell sewed inside its head jingling. 

Frank hurried toward it once it fell and picked it up just before another boy—Tommy Whiting—could stomp on it. 

“Watch it!” Frank snapped when the boy’s foot nearly landed on his hand. 

“What’s your problem?” Tommy snapped.

Frank scowled at him and stood up from the ground, clutching on to the demon doll. 

The exchange was loud enough that some of the others ahead of them turned to see what was happening, but not Gerard. He just continued on, moving around those who stopped to watch Frank and Tommy—hoping to see a fight. 

“Now, now, boys. Let’s keep moving, okay?” One of the counselors said as she walked past, putting a hand on Tommy’s shoulder as though he were the one who had been offended—not Frank whose hand almost got smashed. 

“Yeah. Keep moving,” Tommy snapped, glaring at Frank who glared right back.

“You should try to get along a little better, don’t you think, Frankie?” Another counselor asked, approaching him once Tommy had walked away. 

Frank clicked his tongue and pulled away from the woman’s touch. He didn’t want to get along any better with the other kids. He had friends at home. Why did he need temporary friends at a three week camp? He saw what friendships turned into, anyway. They turned into people living together and then hating each other. 

Why would he want any more of that in his life than he had to have?

With the doll clenched in his fist, Frank skulked off to catch up with Gerard. They didn’t need to be friends, but Frank didn’t see the need to mistreat the boy the way all the other kids did. 

“Hey,” Frank said when he reached the panting boy’s side.

“Wh-what?” Gerard asked, struggling to breathe as they marched uphill. 

“You dropped this,” Frank said, regretting it the instant he held the doll out to Gerard. He wished he’d kept it. He could add it to the collection in his pillowcase and keep it forever. It could’ve been his demon doll…if only he hadn’t given it back.

At first, Gerard seemed confused, then he snatched the doll from Frank’s hand and stared at it with wide eyes. Frank could tell that Gerard really liked the doll he made—that he was proud of it—and it scared him to think he had almost lost it on the hike. Frank bet if Gerard were alone—if the eyes of the other kids around them weren’t on him—he would hug the doll to his chest and maybe even kiss it, happy to have it back. 

“Thanks,” Gerard said before quickly stuffing the little doll into the front pocket of his jeans. 

“I’m… I’m Frank, by the way,” Frank said, looking down at the ground as he continued to walk at Gerard’s side.

“Oh, um… I’m… I’m Gerard.”

The camp was so small that they already knew each other’s names—as well as the names of the thirty-plus other kids living with them—but Frank could think of no other way start a conversation.

“I think your doll looks really cool,” Frank added, head still down. He felt like such a chump—praising Gerard’s crafts like he had a crush or something. 

“Uh—thanks. I named him Lloyd.”

“Lloyd?” Frank asked.

“Yeah…”

“Lloyd is pretty cool,” Frank said, trying to keep the conversation going despite Gerard’s uncomfortable, awkward mumbles. 

“I think I’m going to make a sidekick for him… Shelly said she would give me some left over fabric yesterday. I think she forgot though…I’ll have to ask her when we get back.” 

“What’s the friend’s name gonna be?” Frank asked.

“I don’t know… I’ll decide when he’s finished. It’s weird to pick a name for something that’s not finished yet.”

“I guess,” Frank said, slapping his neck as a mosquito bit him.

“Mosquito?” Gerard asked.

“Yeah…”

“Don’t you have bug spray in your cabin?”

“I ran out,” Frank muttered. 

“I have an extra can if you want it,” Gerard said, his voice a quiet mumble as though offering had made embarrassed. 

“Maybe for the next hike,” Frank said.

Gerard was quiet as the crested the hill, but once the counselors allowed them to explore the clearing at the top, Frank decided to start the conversation again.

“Remember when they made us draw leaves for craft hour?” Frank asked. 

“Yeah,” Gerard mumbled. It obviously wasn’t a fond memory for him after he’d had his picture taken away by the other boys and having been mocked for it. 

“I thought yours was pretty cool. I mean, how dumb is it to just draw leaves? We see enough of them every day out here. You can at least make it interesting.” 

“I guess,” Gerard mumbled. “So…why did your parents send you here? What did you do?”

“Do?” Frank asked. 

“Yeah. Don’t you know? This is where parents send the kids they don’t want. My brother’s off school for the summer, too, but my parents didn’t make him come. What did you do?”

“Nothing,” Frank said. “My parents are divorcing. They fight all the time and I guess I’m in the way.”

“Oh,” Gerard said, instantly clamming up once the conversation became more serious. 

“I don’t care though. I don’t like my dad anyway.” At least, he didn’t like his dad _anymore._ Not after the “whose fault is that” statement. Frank didn’t like feeling like a mistake, like an issue to be fought over. 

“My dad said if I went to camp I’d learn how to act like a boy,” Gerard said, his head hanging low as they walked toward the tree line. If they tried to go back in the woods, one of the counselors would call them back, but they stopped just at the edge next to a bush with wild berries on it. “He says I act… He says I act like a girl and he doesn’t want a daughter.”

“You don’t act like a girl,” Frank snapped, already getting angry at this faceless man he’d never met. “The girls won’t even walk in the mud! They whine about their stupid shoes getting dirty and freak out when they get paint of their clothes. The girls here are stupid. You don’t act like them.”

Frank didn’t know why it made him so angry to hear Gerard’s father had insulted him. Perhaps it was because his own father had accused him of not being interested enough in sports like a boy “should be,” or maybe it was because the thought made Gerard look so unhappy. 

Gerard didn’t respond to Frank’s outburst except to take the demon doll out of his pocket and look it over.

“He’ll probably throw Lloyd away if I take him home,” Gerard said.

“He’d better not! Lloyd is cool. He’s a demon. If you were too girly, you would’ve made a girl doll with a dress or something. Not a cool demon—”

“He’s not a demon. He’s a super hero. His face is red because he’s wearing a mask.”

“If he’s not a demon, why does he have fangs?”

“It’s part of his mask. He wants to look tough because, in real life, he’s just a librarian.”

“A librarian?”

“Yeah… He works with kids’ books. Like, little kids’ books.”

“And at night he fights crime?”

“It’s a dumb idea,” Gerard said.

“I think it’s pretty cool,” Frank responded quickly, blushing when Gerard looked up at caught his eye. Frank hated how much he was praising the other boy. He had no reason to attempt to flatter him. It’s not like they could really be friends…

“You should… You should keep him for me,” Gerard said, handing Lloyd to Frank. 

“But… But you were going to make him a sidekick,” Frank said. “Maybe I should have the sidekick instead. Superheroes aren’t girly.” He quickly handed Lloyd back, too embarrassed—too shy—to accept the gift. “Your dad won’t take him away. You should keep him and make a sidekick for me.”

Frank _wanted_ to keep the doll, but it felt wrong to take it. Gerard hadn’t made it for him and it would be no different from the artworks Frank had pulled from the trash—just another discarded item Gerard didn’t really care about. 

“I…I guess I could make his sidekick and give it to you,” Gerard said, staring at Lloyd with a mixed expression—as if he were trying to decide whether or not to be sad about Frank rejecting his gift. 

“They could be like friendship charms, but—but like guy ones,” Frank said rapidly, looking away when his face heated up again. 

“Th-that’s a really cool idea—I-I never would’ve thought of that!” Gerard sounded excited about the idea, making Frank feel a little more confident. Gerard didn’t even bother to mention that the rule of friendship charms usually meant one of them made a gift for the other—not one doing all the work. 

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank sat across the desk from the camp’s director, his arms crossed over his chest and his head down in a furious scowl. 

“Frank, would you like to explain what happened at dinner tonight?” The director, Bill, asked.

“No,” Frank spat.

“Well that’s not very helpful.”

“I don’t care,” Frank muttered. His hand was hurting and he didn’t want to sit here and get yelled at for sticking up for his best friend. He had a little, blue demon-superhero sidekick (Bruce) attached to his belt loop on a tight noose, made for him by the boy who Tommy Whiting had bullied to tears at lunchtime. Frank wouldn’t let that boy get away with it. 

Frank overheard the taunting start from all the way across the meal hall. He’d been scooping macaroni salad onto his plate when he heard the phrase “fat dweeb” ring out in the echoing hall. One of the counselors called out “hey now” as though that would really end the taunting. 

Tommy just kept going and Frank watched from across the room, not quite able to hear what was being said but able to see the toll it took on his friend. Gerard, at first, stared Tommy defiantly in the eye. But then his determination faltered and he lowered his head more and more until his shoulders started to shake and Frank realized his friend was crying. 

Immediately, Frank saw red. He left his tray on the rail by the lunch buffet and stormed across the room. Without a second thought, he’d drawn back his fist and punched Tommy right in his stupid, dumb mouth. He cuts his knuckles on the boy’s teeth, but unfortunately didn’t knock any of them out. 

“We called your parents,” Bill said. “There is a zero tolerance policy for fighting here.”

Frank kept his head down, not wanting to show how unhappy the words made him. He hated the camp and he wanted to leave more than anything, but Gerard was here. Once he left camp, they’d never see each other again. Gerard said he wouldn’t give Frank his home number because his dad wouldn’t like him to get calls. This time together was all they were ever going to have and now, because he’d chosen to defend Gerard’s honor, that time was over. 

“I must say, Frank, of everyone here, we never expected this sort of behavior from you.”

“Tommy called Gerard fat. He deserved to get punched,” Frank said, sniffing a little once the words were out though he was sure as hell _not_ crying.

“You could’ve told one of the counselors that you saw your friend being picked on. You didn’t need to take matters into your own hands.”

“I’m not a snitch,” Frank hissed. “Tommy needed to learn a lesson.”

( ) ( ) ( )

“I hear they’re making you go home,” Gerard said. 

Frank didn’t know how the other boy had snuck away from the hike everyone was supposed to be on, but his heart leapt at the chance to see his friend _one last time_ before he had to go home. By the time he’d gotten out of the office—and off the phone with his very irate mother—the base camp was empty and everyone was off on a light, evening hike. 

Everyone but Gerard, it seemed.

“Yeah,” Frank said, looking up from his suitcase.

“Why did you have to punch him? He’s not worth you getting sent home…”

“He was making fun of you. I didn’t like it,” Frank said. 

“No one’s ever…stood up for me before like that,” Gerard said after a long pause. 

Frank didn’t know what to say and looked away as his cheeks started to burn. He’d never punched anybody before—not when he wasn’t playing. He’d never really stood up for his friends at home either, though, and this whole experience was new to him. 

He was sorry he was getting sent home and sad that he would be leaving Gerard behind, but he would do it again if he were given the chance. Tommy got what he deserved and Frank would never forget the look on Gerard’s face when he looked up and saw what had happened.

He’d been surprised and _delighted._ Frank had spent days complimenting Gerard’s art, but nothing flattered him like that punch did. That told Gerard that Frank was all in. He would stick up for Gerard. He was the _only_ person who would really stick up for Gerard no matter what. 

“Can I…help you pack?” Gerard asked, coming further into the room.

“Sure,” Frank said, even though he hadn’t brought much stuff and most of things were already stuffed into his black suitcase and duffle bag. 

Gerard came to sit down on the floor next to him and then, to Frank’s surprise, started tugging his clothing back out of the suitcase and began folding them properly and stacking them neatly on the floor. 

“Do you think…I could have your address? Then we could write to each other instead of call. My mom can give me money for stamps. Dad can’t listen in on letters like he could phone calls.”

“Sure!” Frank said, springing up too readily and then spinning back and forth a moment as he tried to remember where he’d put his notepads. They, as well as his books, were on his bed next to his duffle bag and he grabbed a piece of paper and pen. He quickly jotted down his home address and handed it to Gerard who folded it and put it in his pocket after reading it over again and again. “Can I have yours?” Frank asked.

“When I write you can… I just… If you send a letter first I won’t be expecting it and my dad could get to it first.”

“I wouldn’t say anything bad in it,” Frank said, not sure why Gerard was so afraid his father might see their future letters. He wouldn’t say anything to get his friend in trouble.

“I know, but…my dad doesn’t want me to really talk to guys.”

“Why?” Frank asked. His mom as the complete opposite. She didn’t want him hanging out alone with girls—not now that he’d “grown up.” He was only in sixth grade, but apparently that meant he was an adult. A “young” adult. Young adults couldn’t hang out with girls alone, and apparently Gerard’s dad didn’t want him to hang out with boys at all.

“I don’t know,” Gerard said, looking away at the floor. 

They sat together and packed for over an hour until the director, Bill, appeared in the doorway with Frank’s mother who didn’t look at all pleased. 

“Well, don’t just sit there. Get your things,” his mother said. 

Frank sighed and looked at Gerard, unable to bring himself to say out loud that he didn’t want to go—that he wanted to stay here with Gerard for the rest of the week and then some. But Gerard didn’t say anything either, so Frank stood up and got his bags on his shoulders and in his arms. As he was about to leave the room, Gerard stood up from the floor and surprised Frank by giving him a hug. 

Frank held him as tightly as he could with his arms and shoulders loaded with his heavy bags.

“Bye,” Gerard whispered, putting all of his strength into the hug.

“Bye,” Frank said, sighing and dropping his head onto Gerard’s shoulder. He really hoped Tommy and the others wouldn’t pick on Gerard more with him gone. 

Maybe punching Tommy to get revenge wasn’t the best idea… But Frank had just been so angry! He couldn’t help it… 

He really should’ve fought harder to control himself, though, because this goodbye was painful and he didn’t want to go. 

“Alright, Frank. It’s time to go,” his mother said, having no patience for him or lengthy goodbyes. 

Frank had to be the first to let go, then Gerard backed away. He kept his head down as Frank walked toward his mother at the door and didn’t look up, not even as Frank was led outside.

The last memory Frank had of him was with his head down the same way it had been in the lunch hall. Some of the times Frank recollected that day, he recalled Gerard’s shoulders trembling as he fought back tears, though he didn’t know if those memories were true or if he really just wished someone could really miss him or love him that much.


	2. Chapter 2

Frank swore after he got himself thrown out of Tranquil Maples at age twelve that he would never let himself get sent to a summer camp again. Not only had he made and subsequently lost one of his best friends he swore he’d ever have, he also got his ass beat by his dad when he got home and that wasn’t something he ever wanted to repeat. 

Though he doubted his dad was going to be so adamant about coming to his ex-wife’s house to paddle his twenty-year-old son this time if Frank got himself fired from Camp Bellfort. 

The week before the kids were set to arrive, the camp’s counselors all had to show up for five days of orientation—learning the camp, learning the policies and how to enforce them, the history, and all of the boring, bullshit legends they were expected to feed to the ten-to-twelve year olds. Frank wasn’t excited about it, but it was a job and he needed the money if he was going to buy that new guitar.

Frank groaned as he slowed his car to a stop in the pot-holed, rough gravel drive next to a big white minivan with the camp’s cheery, cheesy sunshine logo on it. It was the only space left in the lot and Frank knew that he was late—but it wasn’t his fault his shitty GPS couldn’t figure out where he was in the middle of nowhere.

He left his bags in his car and then approached the largest of the log cabins—the meal hall/craft hall/lecture hall/waste-your-kids’-fuckin-summer hall. When he got inside, all the other counselors were already sitting in a circle of chairs like members of an AA meeting. They even shouted out a variation of “welcome Frank” as he introduced himself, apologized for being late, and sat down. 

At first, he kept his head down while the camp director discussed a change in policy for the “seasoned” counselors to make note of. Then, as the woman droned on and on about how exciting this summer would be for the counselors and the kids, Frank lifted his head and started scanning the faces of his fellow counselors. 

The girl next to him looked like a book nerd—no makeup, glasses, stringy blonde hair tied up in a ponytail she threaded through the back of her Camp Bellfort baseball cap. Beside her was a busty chick who was trying to pretend she was fighting to silence her phone while she was actually sending a text message (shaking her head and sighing while forcibly “pressing” the buttons), next to her were two average girls who looked at least slightly engaged in what was happening around them. Across from Frank sat the camp director, Mrs. Katie, then the male counselors were on her other side.

Frank wondered if they were separated by gender intentionally, or if it was something that just sort of happened as everyone filed in. There was a tall Black man sitting next to the director who smiled at Frank when he noticed Frank looking at him, the attention making Frank flustered since he hoped the guy didn’t think he’d been staring. Frank flashed a quick smile in return and then darted his eyes to the side, eager to end the exchange before he made himself out to be the weird one of the male counselors. He didn’t want everyone to think he was a creep. 

But that thought left Frank’s mind as soon as his eye landed on the man diagonally across from him in the circle. He felt his face go wide as he took in the features of the man sitting there with his legs crossed, a notepad in his lap meant for notes no doubt being used for doodling and sketches. Frank _knew_ that face. At least, he thought he did.

It was familiar. 

Long black hair, sharp nose, pink cheeks… He was dressed in all black, tight jeans clinging to his slightly chubby thighs. 

At _him,_ Frank was staring. 

“Gerard?” Frank said. It had started as a thought, but his mouth had spit out the name overtop Mrs. Katie’s discussion of the bathroom cleaning rotation. 

The man Frank was staring at lifted his head and met Frank’s gaze, his cheeks turning a darker red. 

“H-Hi,” he stammered, then immediately looked back down at his notepad. 

Frank didn’t know if the man remembered him or not. He’d _better,_ Frank thought. He still had Bruce hanging from his rearview mirror in his car. Granted he was beat up and faded now with stitches coming loose, but he was still a permanent fixture in Frank’s life. 

Yeah, they’d only been friends about a week and a half, but Frank had never met anyone before—and still hadn’t found anyone after—whom he’d fight somebody to defend.

Gerard _better_ remember that. He’d really better!

Suddenly, Frank realized the room had gone silent and everyone was staring at him—including the tall man beside Mrs. Katie who was trying to suppress laughter though Frank didn’t see what was so funny. 

“Sorry,” Frank said, leaning back in his seat. 

Patience, he thought. Patience. There would eventually be an end to this barrage of information and then he could see what, if anything, Gerard remembered about the summer before seventh grade.

( ) ( ) ( )

“Shit’s gross,” Frank said, picking at the food on his Camp Bellfort plastic tray. 

“Yeah it is,” Jason said, scooting his tray away and sighing in disappointment. Jason was the Black man who had been sitting next to Mrs. Katie in the induction meeting—the one who had smiled at Frank when he noticed Frank’s eyes on him. The one who had been stifling laughter when Frank blurted out Gerard’s name. 

He’d immediately sat with Frank when it came time for dinner break and introduced himself. He was one of the seasoned counselors Mrs. Katie had been talking about and had gone to Camp Bellfort as a kid. Frank didn’t see how anyone could love a summer camp and told Jason so. His response was that when a kid’s home life is hell, a summer camp is a blessing. Nothing bad ever happened to him at Camp Bellfort and he wanted to pay that back y being a counselor like the ones who had supported him back then.

It made sense to Frank and he held back the story of his first and only experience at a summer camp—getting a crush on another boy for the first time and getting kicked out for punching some asshole kid for picking on him. He had a feeling Jason might realize that that “good friend” happened to be Gerard. 

Gerard who was sitting in the window sill across the room sketching instead of eating, not talking to anyone. 

“This food is so gross,” Frank repeated.

“I hear ya,” Jason repeated, shaking his head.

“You wanna get out of here? I’ve got my car. There’s a Burger King down the road. I can get a veggie burger and you can get whatever the hell you want.”

“Nah, I don’t have any cash on me to spend. I’m saving for the field trip.”

“I can pay. It’s not a big deal,” Frank said. Jason seemed cool and the more friends he had here among the other counselors, the better his stay would be. 

Jason hesitated, then started nodding.

“Alright, but I’m getting a Whopper and a Coke. You sure you can afford it?” He laughed as he said it, testing the waters with humor.

“Sounds good to me,” Frank said, standing up from the table and picking up his tray. Jason did the same and after they both scraped their food away into the trash and set their trays in the dish-cleaning window, Frank turned to look over his shoulder at Gerard.

“You think he might want to come?” Jason asked.

“Maybe,” Frank said, suddenly feeling a pang of anxiety as he thought to approach Gerard and ask. The other guy hadn’t come to join Frank’s table even though Frank had made it apparent that he knew Gerard from somewhere before. 

“Go ask him,” Jason said, smiling and clapping Frank on the shoulder.

“I don’t know…he’s drawing. He never… He’s always been into drawing.”

“I know. He’s our art intern. He’s just shy—go ask him.”

“He doesn’t want interrupted when he’s drawing,” Frank said, unwilling to admit he was afraid to ask because he didn’t want Gerard to say no. He’d spent years—shameful years—remembering a few brief days one summer long ago, blowing them out of proportion, idolizing them, pretending Gerard didn’t write because his father wouldn’t let him—not because he didn’t want to.

If he asked Gerard to go out for food and Gerard said no, it would shatter that illusion. 

“If you’re not gonna ask, I will,” Jason said, shrugging and stalking off toward Gerard. He put a hand on the man’s shoulder, stealing his attention away from his art, and though Frank couldn’t hear what was said, he knew right away.

Gerard turned to look at him, then looked back up at Jason and shook his head.

Frank turned away, not wanting to watch anymore and took his keys out of his pocket. Years wasted on stupid fantasies. Gerard hadn’t been his friend, he just talked to Frank back then to avoid being the awkward loner kid… Or maybe Frank had just forced his friendship on the other kid and it had been a blessing to Gerard when Frank went away. 

( ) ( ) ( )

After two days of orientation for the kids, the real schedule finally got set into motion. There were two girls who already had crushes on Frank and followed him wherever he’d go. On nature walks, they were at his sides, telling him their whole life stories and demanding more and more of his attention. One even tripped on purpose so he had to help her walk back to camp to get a bandage. It probably disappointed the little brat that a female counselor had to come with them to supervise. As a co-ed camp, no counselor of the opposite gender was to ever be alone with a child. 

Despite his little fanbase, Frank was far from being the most popular. It was Jason, actually, who had the most of the kids’ affections. He could play sports with the boys, talk about plants and nature with the girls—the other counselors even respected him since he was the most senior member of the camp team. 

The female counselors were well liked to, even the nerdy-looking girl Frank had sat beside at orientation was popular with the kids.

Gerard, it seemed, was the hardest to approach unless it was time for crafts. And that was what Frank was looking forward to the most. 

Gerard was an art intern chosen to work with the kids on crafts in order to prepare him for a career in teaching art. Frank remembered how unique his take on craft time had been back when they were kids and he wondered how he would apply that now. 

As the children were gathered inside with their drawing pads and Gerard was stood before them, ready for his first real attempt at teaching them, Frank sat in the back of the room next to Jason and watched. 

“So, um… For—For today we-we’re going to work on drawing. I thought, um—what’s better than to start drawing something in n-nature since we’re at a nature camp, right?” Gerard was visibly trembling, so nervous to be speaking in front of the group of kids even though crafting was probably their third favorite activity under eating and sports. “So…we-we’re going to go outside and pick something cool you’d like to draw. Anything you want. I-it can be the trees or—or a plant. If you want to draw the lodges, that’s c-cool too.”

“He’s so nervous,” Jason said.

“I know… I feel so bad for him,” Frank said, shaking his head a little.

“He’d be fine if he just relaxed. He’s taking them outside. They’re going to have a blast.”

“They’d better. I’ll slap one of these little punks if I have to,” Frank said. Jason passed him a sideways glace and Frank laughed nervously. “I’m just kidding. I’m not going to beat up some kid. I’m not crazy.”

“You’re definitely _crazy,_ but I don’t think you’re that crazy, Frankie,” Jason said, chuckling to himself. “Oh, come on. He’s taking them outside.”

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank laid in the grass as Gerard walked around and checked on the progress of his students. This was the third time in a row he’d taken them outside for craft time and the kids really seemed to enjoy it. Today they were making pictures out of cut and glued leaves and flowers. 

Certain kids had really taken to Gerard and worked hard to do well and draw his attention. Having students favor him really seemed to boost Gerard’s ego, too, and he stopped stammering every time he gave instructions. 

“You guys really seem to have got the hang of this so I’m going to sit down for a little bit and give you all some space. If you need me, don’t hesitate to ask, okay?” Gerard asked, smiling at the kids before walking away from the cluster of students. 

It surprised Frank when he noticed Gerard was walking toward him—and then sat down next to him in the grass. It was the first time Gerard had come near him since the camp began the previous week.

“S’up?” Frank said, cheeks immediately starting to burn when his voice cracked. He wasn’t nervous, he just hadn’t spoken much since the day before. He and Jason had snuck out to go drinking in the woods and Frank had spent the morning hungover with his head down on the breakfast table. He even skipped out on the hiking and sports activities in order to nurse his headache. Jason, however, was up at the crack of dawn as though nothing had happened. 

“I thought you…you really hated camps,” Gerard said as he sat down with about three feet of space between him and Frank in the grass.

“I do—but I need the money and my mom knows Mrs. Katie.”

“The kids really like you,” Gerard said.

“Yeah… Like two of them. I’m not Mr. Popular like somebody.”

“Th-they really like the art. I’m so surprised,” Gerard said, smiling despite himself. “I figured it’d be like when we were kids and everybody hated it.”

“You know how to make it interesting,” Frank said. “You always did.”

He wasn’t so prone to try to kiss Gerard’s ass like he used to be. He didn’t need to flatter the other man. The guy had ignored him from day one and Frank was still hurt by it, no matter what reasoning Gerard might have.

“I guess… I just remember turning a leaf into a map of my fantasy city and getting tormented for it.”

“You remember that?” Frank asked, leaving out the “but you refused to talk to me until now” part of his thought.

“Yeah… I really didn’t expect you to be here.”

“I didn’t expect _you_ to be here,” Frank said. “I thought you hated camp as much as I did.”

“I did… I do, still. Kind of… The guys in my lodge are assholes.”

“I’m lucky. Jason and me have the double. It’s pretty nice.”

“He was supposed to have a single but we’ve got one more male counselor than we were supposed to.”

“That being me, right?” Frank asked, rolling his eyes.

“No. The girl who was supposed to be the art intern broke her ankle.”

“Oh—I guess you’re pretty lucky to be here then. Or did you give up some other internship.”

“I could’ve stayed at home and worked at the daycare in town, but this seemed a lot better. I get to get away from my dad for a bit, so that helps…”

“I remember, even when we were kids, you said he was really strict.”

“Yeah,” Gerard said, flashing a small smile. “I…I tried to write you back then. Really. My dad just…didn’t like the idea.”

“It’s whatever. That’s was, what, eight years ago? Shit… I haven’t thought about that since…since I saw you at orientation,” Frank lied. It surprised him when he looked over at Gerard and noticed the man’s expression had crumbled to a quiet sadness. 

“Yeah… I-I guess that—that was eight years ago, huh? I’m… Yeah, wow. Jeez. I can’t believe you remember me at all.” Gerard tried to pass Frank a smile, but it never really became anything more than an awkward, lopsided grin.

He’d hurt Gerard’s feelings and it immediately made Frank forget how low he’d felt when Gerard had been ignoring him. It had been eight years. How were you supposed to act when you’ve reconnected with someone you haven’t seen in eight years?

“You wanna go somewhere for dinner tonight. You know, something other than this—”

“Gerard! Will you look at my picture?” 

As soon as the little girl called out, Gerard was on his feet and hurrying to her side.

“—place,” Frank finished, even though Gerard wasn’t near to hear him. He sighed and watched as Gerard praised the little brunette girl’s picture. 

( ) ( ) ( )

It was nine-thirty and all the kids were supposed to be in bed, even though Frank was sure not even half of them were sleeping. He was supposed to take a lantern when he walked outside at night, but he didn’t feel like alerting Mrs. Katie to his presence as he walked from his and Jason’s lodge to the male counselor’s cabin. He stood awkwardly outside the door a moment, then knocked.

One of the more athletic guys answered and looked Frank over as if he were a slab of meat. Frank had never been the most popular with anyone and this place, with the other counselors, was no different.

“What’s up? One of the kids getting sick or something?” The guy, Steven, asked.

“No. I was wondering if Gerard was in.”

“Who is it?” Someone else in the cabin called.

“Frank—he’s looking for the fat fuck.”

“Hey, what the fuck’s your problem, man?” Frank snapped. He wasn’t going to punch this guy. He _wasn’t_ going to punch this guy. 

They’d been in the camp for ten days—how had he never noticed it before that the other counselors were picking on Gerard just like the kids used to back in the day? 

“Dude’s a freak. He stays up all night sitting in the window drawing. He can’t even see anything, but he just sits there. Fuckin’ weird as hell,” Steven said.

“Whatever,” Frank hissed. “Where is he?”

“Went to the showers about half an hour ago. Probably jackin’ off.”

“Go fuck yourself,” Frank said, turning away from the cabin and storming off across the path to the bathroom/shower complex. He heard one of the showers running and when he stepped inside, he noticed a set of Gerard’s clothes folded over the shower curtain along with some pajamas. He was smart enough to know if he hung his clothes in a bag on one of the pegs outside the shower, his enemies would probably just take them. “Hey, Gerard?”

“F-Frank?” Gerard called back.

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“Wh-what are you… What are you doing? Are you getting a shower?” All of a sudden the shower curtain started rippling and Gerard was peeking out at Frank from a small gap between the metal wall and the plastic curtain.

“No—I was coming to see if you wanted to go with me into town. There’s this gas station about ten minutes away that sells really good food. They’ve got this touch screen ordering system—you can get anything you want.” Frank kept babbling for a minute, unnerved by the way Gerard kept staring at him. “You…you wanna go?”

“Uh… Yeah, sure. That—that’s sounds great, I just… I gotta get…dressed first.”

“Yeah, duh,” Frank said, laughing and scratching the back of his head nervously. “Want to meet and mine and Jason’s cabin? Or we can meet by my car. Whatever works for you.”

“I-I’ll…I’ll come by your cabin, yeah. Just…just give me a minute.”

“Yeah sure,” Frank said, smiling and backing awkwardly out of the bathroom. The smile stayed on his face as he made his way back to the cabin, and as soon as he sat down on his bed Jason started looking at him and laughing. “What?”

“You _like_ him,” Jason said in a teasing, sing-song voice.

“Shut up.”

“You do. You _like_ him.”

“Yeah, well don’t go spreading it around.”

“Don’t worry—your secret’s safe with me,” Jason said, flopping back on his bed and laughing as if Frank had told him the best joke ever. Frank just rolled his eyes and sat down on his own bed, waiting and waiting to hear Gerard knock on his door.


	3. Bruce

Frank fidgeted the whole time he waited for Gerard to come knock on his door. He tried sitting on his bed, but had to stand up and pace around in order to work out his nervous energy. For a moment he’d had the thought to go out to his car and take Bruce down from his rearview mirror. He was scared it might be awkward for Gerard or send too strong of a “I like you and have liked you for a really long time” message. Then, just as Frank was grabbing his key and getting ready to go, he realized that that message wasn’t so bad. 

He liked Gerard. He liked his memory of Gerard and he liked the Gerard he saw now—the one who was still so shy yet great with the kids, passionate about his art and more skilled than ever. He didn’t want there to be any doubts in Gerard’s mind that Frank liked him, that he meant it when he offered Gerard friendship and it wasn’t some kind of a trick. 

Then, finally, there was a soft knocking on the door—followed by a giggle from Jason—and Frank bolted to answer it. He swung the door open fast, startling Gerard who was standing outside with a sweater draped over his arms as if he thought it would be cold at the gas station even though it was over eighty-degrees outside. 

“H-Hey,” Gerard said, biting his lip and smiling a little nervously.

“Hey. Ready to go?” Frank asked. 

“Yeah. I-I don’t have much money, but I’m up for a ride at least. Do you think they have coffee?”

“Yeah—they’ve got all kinds of coffee. It’s not too expensive either,” Frank said, waving bye to Jason and then hurrying out of the cabin. He put a hand on Gerard’s shoulder as he guided him to the car, unable to hide his excitement or withhold his desire to touch the other guy. It had been so long since they’d been this close. Even if Frank had idolized and glorified the memories, he was still happy. 

“This is your car?” Gerard asked as Frank reached the side of his little car and unlocked the passenger door. 

“Yup,” Frank said, opening the door for Gerard and patting his shoulder as Gerard, blushing and smiling shyly, dropped down into the car. 

For the first few miles of the drive, Gerard just sat quietly in the seat and squirmed around before, all of a sudden, he gasped.

“I-is that—holy shit! Is that th-the doll I made back when we were at camp!?” Gerard leaned forward and grabbed the doll to still it, his eyes wide. “Holy shit! You kept him!?”

“Of course,” Frank said. 

“Oh my god! I-I… I can’t believe you still have him.”

“What was I supposed to do? Throw him away? He’s our friendship charm.”

“Holy _shit,_ ” Gerard said again, flopping back in his seat. “I lost mine as soon as I got home—I can’t believe you kept him!”

“Of course I kept him. You were my best friend back then.”

“We knew each other for less than two weeks,” Gerard said.

“Yeah, but I punched a kid in the mouth for you,” Frank said.

“I know! That was _in-fucking-sane!_ ”

“I know,” Frank said, looking over at Gerard. “I got my ass beat for it, too, when I got home. My dad was _pissed._ ”

“I never told you to punch him!”

“I’m not blaming you, I’m just saying—I punched a guy for you and got beat for it, and I still kept Bruce.”

“Bruce?”

“That’s what you named him. After Bruce Wayne. The other one was Lloyd. I don’t know who he was named after.”

Gerard laughed awkwardly and let his head loll back against the seat.

“I can’t believe you kept him—it’s just… Wow. I can’t…”

Frank giggled and turned his attention back to the road. He let Gerard bask in the moment a little longer and then asked a question on a less stirring topic—how had he ended up in art school.

( ) ( ) ( )

The plan had been to get food and go back to the cabins, maybe after eating in the parking lot of the gas station. However, after they’d gathered a collection of snacks of they both had coffees, Frank just kept driving around the area, taking random exits off the highway and cruising down backroads while Gerard babbled about art school and the classes he took. 

Frank listened patiently, then jumped in with the story of how he ended up at the camp—talking about the band he was in and the new guitar he wanted to buy. Gerard gushed over that, already acting a little bit like a groupie even though he didn’t know if Frank was shit at guitar or a rock god. 

Frank laughed a bit around his mouthful of warm pretzel and shook his head. He had imagined Gerard to act in many ways over the years, but he’d forgotten how much of an awkward dork he really was. Gerard didn’t act at all like Frank had imagined, but the real thing was better. Everything from the way Gerard laughed to how he gasped and his eyes went wide when he thought up a new story he wanted to tell. 

Every now and then Gerard would go quiet, stuffing his face with the snacks Frank bought for him or sipping from his large cup of hazelnut coffee, but for the most part he kept up the conversation. 

After driving for about twenty minutes down a dark, deserted road, Frank could take no more. He shook his head and pulled off to the side of pavement in a large patch of muddy rock and put the car in park. 

“I-Is everything okay?” Gerard asked, blinking rapidly and setting his coffee cup down into the cup holder. 

“Yeah,” Frank said, shutting off the car, unfastening his seatbelt and leaning over, grabbing Gerard’s cheek and pulling him forward into a kiss. 

Gerard squeaked and lifted one of his hands up, pushing against Frank’s shoulder, and then turned his face away with a gasp. 

“What are you doing?” Gerard stammered, working his jaw and swallowing hard as he stared at Frank.

Suddenly, Frank’s confidence dropped just a bit. Maybe he’d been misreading the signs… Just because Gerard had long hair and went to art school didn’t necessarily mean he was _gay._ And even if he was, it didn’t mean he liked Frank like that—or wanted a relationship or even a one night stand. (Though Frank was really hoping he’d get lucky. He pretended to need to use the bathroom after Gerard already got back in the car and then bought condoms and a way-too-fucking-expensive bottle of Trojan lube from the gas station. He didn’t want it to go to waste.)

“Are you okay?” Frank asked, trying to avoid one of the more serious questions on his mind.

“Y-Yeah, but… Why—Why did you kiss me? What are… What are we doing out here?”

“Hanging out,” Frank said. “I don’t know. I…I like you, Gerard. I’m excited to see you again. That’s all.” 

“But… But you kissed me…and we’re in the middle of nowhere.”

“I thought we could…have a little privacy,” Frank said, laughing a little to fight the discomfort that was settling over the car. 

“Privacy to…to—”

“To make out a little. I don’t know. I like you, Gerard. I have for a while,” Frank said, looking over at the doll hanging from his rearview mirror. “Obviously.”

“But—”

“If you’re not interested, that’s fine,” Frank said, trying desperately to save face. He was embarrassed now, certain he’d misread the cues. Gerard was just excited to be talking about himself without getting picked on for once—his eyes weren’t lighting up for Frank. “We can…yeah, we can just find our way back to camp. It’s getting ate anyway. Like, shit…” Frank looked down at the radio clock. “Wow, it’s past midnight already. We should get back.”

“W-we don’t have to,” Gerard said quickly, putting a hand on Frank’s knee just as Frank reached to put his seatbelt back on. “I mean… I-I like you too I was just…surprised,” he added, chuckling nervously. 

Still a bit anxious, his confidence low, Frank laughed, too. 

“So…are you okay to hang out here for a little bit longer?” Frank asked. 

“Yeah, sure,” Gerard said, ducking his head to hide a shy smile. “Definitely.” He giggled a little before looking back up, his cheeks darkening as he slowly reached over and placed his hand on Frank’s knee—then slid it up to his thigh, squeezing it gently.

Frank placed his hand over top Gerard’s and started rubbing it, coaxing the other man to slide it a little bit higher. 

“Do you think anyone’s going to come by here?” Gerard asked, suddenly pulling his hand away.

“Out here? Nah, probably not. I mean, someone might drive by, but I doubt any cops are gonna come by or anything,” Frank said, looking around them at the deserted roads and quiet trees. “You wanna…sit in the back with me?”

“Okay,” Gerard said, his voice quiet and meek—a contradiction to how quickly he unfastened his seatbelt. He waited until Frank opened his car door before moving to get out of the car, but he still seemed a bit nervous when they met in the backseat of Frank’s car. 

Frank, for a moment, had to shove a bunch of his things forward into his driver’s and passenger seat so he and Gerard would have room. 

“I still can’t believe you kept that,” Gerard said, looking forward past the seats to stare at the little doll he’d made for Frank all those years ago. 

“Of course I kept it,” Frank said, leaning over and pressing his lips onto Gerard’s cheek. “I liked you.”

“I liked you too,” Gerard said, turning his face and kissing Frank on the mouth. 

Frank made the move to close the distance between them, kissing Gerard deeply and lifting a hand to stroke his cheek and caress the shell of his ear. Gerard let out a quiet little moan and placed his hand on Frank’s hip, just cradling it at first, but then beginning to pull—drawing Frank on top of him as he began to lie back across the seat. 

Once Frank managed to get Gerard to lie completely down, his head on the seat and his hair splayed out on the cushion, he slid his hand inside of the other man’s shirt to stroke his sides—his ribs and stomach up to his chest and nipples. Gerard moaned softly and arched into the touches, folding his arms over his head on the seat and completely opening himself up to Frank’s advances. 

Frank pushed up Gerard’s shirt and leaned down to lick a hot strip up the other man’s stomach and chest before attaching his lips to Gerard’s neck and sucking hard—leaving marks and not caring in the slightest. Gerard didn’t seem to mind either. He was moaning and gasping with each of Frank’s touches, going along with everything at Frank’s pace before finally pleading for what they both wanted.

“Please—just do it. Come on. Before somebody comes,” Gerard panted.

“Before somebody comes? Are you that close already?” Frank asked, smirking as he reached into his pocket for the box of condoms and small bottle of lube he’d purchased at the gas station.

“Shut up,” Gerard said, rolling his eyes and sitting up as he prepared to strip off his own jeans while Frank busied himself with opening the bottle of lube and removing the plastic safety seal. 

Frank kept pausing his work to look over at Gerard, taking in the subtle way Gerard’s hands shook as he pulled off his shoes and shoved off his skinny jeans. He left his boxer-briefs in place, however, and leaned back against the car door, eagerly panting as Frank struggled to get the bottle ready. As soon as it was, Frank screwed the cap back on and then set it (along with the box of condoms) on the little shelf beneath the angle of the back window beside the headrest of the backseat. 

He leaned back over to kiss Gerard on the mouth, stroking his sides and hooking one of his thumbs in the waistband of the other man’s underwear. When he went to pull them down, however, Gerard laughed nervously and pushed his hands away.

“What’s wrong?” Frank asked. 

“Nothing I just…” Gerard laughed again and ducked his head. “I don’t know.”

“Am I going too fast? We can stop,” Frank said quickly. “I don’t mind.”

“No, it’s not that I… It’s nothing,” Gerard said, shaking his head and leaning forward for another kiss on the mouth. Frank returned the kiss, adding tongue and working their mouths together as he reached for Gerard’s underwear again. This time, the other man let Frank pull them down his thighs. 

“This will be easier if you’re on your stomach,” Frank said, kissing Gerard’s cheek and then his throat. 

“Okay,” Gerard breathed, shaking slightly as he moved onto his knees on the narrow seat. Frank moaned and climbed over him again, kissing Gerard’s shoulder blades through the fabric of his t-shirt. It was hot in the car and they were both starting to sweat—Gerard’s shirt slightly damp with the perspiration.   
Gerard moaned as Frank’s hands slid over his hips, long fingers stroking the insides of his thighs but never moving any further than to tease. Frank slowly moved his hands upwards again—relishing in the moment as he finally got to touch Gerard and see all of him—see him like this. 

After grabbing the bottle of lubricant and pouring a small amount of the oil onto his fingers, Frank finally moved forward and pressed the tips of his fingers against the pink pucker of Gerard’s opening. He pressed one in at first, surprised when Gerard’s body opened easily for him—the other man letting out a shrill, breathy grasp—and then added another. Gerard’s back arched as he cried out in mixed pleasure and pain. 

“Are you okay?” Frank asked. “Do you like that?”

“Yes,” Gerard moaned, his words slightly muffled by the cushion of the backseat. It was all the incentive Frank needed to add a third finger. Gerard gasped and pushed his hips back, encouraging Frank to press his fingers in as far as he could. 

Frank never expected Gerard to be so eager—or so experienced—but he wasn’t going to complain. He didn’t have to waste time promising Gerard it wouldn’t hurt or that it would be okay. Gerard knew. Gerard understood how this worked even if neither of them knew how they were supposed to work out once it happened. 

After several more moments spent thrusting his fingers in and out, Frank pulled away and hurriedly started unfastening and unzipping his own jeans. He pushed them, along with his boxers, down his thighs just enough to expose his length, and then grabbed for the box of condoms. Once he had singled out one of the foil-wrapped discs, he tossed the box aside and started ripping at the packaging.

His hands were trembling with excitement as he finally got the condom free and rolled one down his member and then slicked it up with more of the lube.

The whole time, Gerard just laid there panting—not moving out of his position except to shift his weight from one knee to the other and to set his head on his right forearm, putting a little space between his mouth and the cushion so he could breathe.

“Are you okay?” Frank asked one last time as he moved forward and started lining himself up.

“Yeah. Just don’t—don’t go too fast,” Gerard said, craning his neck to look back at Frank as the other man slowly started to press inside. Their eyes locked for a moment, Gerard’s heavy and lidded as he took Frank in deeper in an inch at a time.

The sight made Frank moan, his head tipping back and his eyes closing. He didn’t know how it came to this—how they went from the briefest of childhood friends to hooking up in the backseat of Frank’s car—but he wasn’t going to complain. This, to him, was perfection. The sounds Gerard made when Frank had buried himself to the hilt in his tight heat were perfection. Even the smell of sweat mixing with the scent of the food they’d bought that sat forgotten in their bags in the front seat was perfect to Frank who was desperate to commit every second of this encounter to memory. 

He’d learned the last time he’d been at camp with Gerard that time with him was precious and could end forever at any time. 

Frank leaned over Gerard’s back and reached around, grasping the other man’s length and giving it a few encouraging strokes. Gerard moaned deeply and pressed back against Frank’s hips, his cock leaking precome all over Frank’s hand. Frank quickly set up a pace, thrusting hard and jacking Gerard off in time with his thrusts. 

It didn’t take long for Gerard’s moans to become shrill and his body to start trembling. He moved along with all of Frank’s motions and the louder Frank became, the louder Gerard got in turn—shameless in the privacy of the car. 

A pair of headlights lit up their backseat paradise, casting a brief, yellow glow over Frank’s face and lighting up Gerard’s lustful eyes just briefly before he closed them and let out a succession of sharp moans. 

Frank gasped, his throat tightening as Gerard’s hole began to clench around him. 

The sound Gerard let out as he came was a mixture of a nasally scream and a gasp, his entire body going rigid as Frank continued to pound into him—tipping him over the edge. When he finished, Gerard went limp against the seat, relying on Frank to support his thighs as he worked toward his own orgasm. 

Frank dugs his fingers into the soft flesh of Gerard’s hips as he finished, hoping to leave bruises that no one else would see—marks just for him and Gerard to admire if they got a chance like this again. 

As soon as Frank pulled out, Gerard let his entire body collapse against the seat and rolled onto his side, his chest heaving as he panted. Frank pulled off the condom and looked out the back window before leaning over and opening the car door, letting the latex fall out onto the pavement and then closing the door again—regrettably cutting short the cool flow of air he’d allowed in. 

“Can’t say I thought this would happen when I agreed to work for Bellfort,” Frank said as he draped himself over Gerard’s body—not even bothering to tuck himself back in.

Panting, Gerard just nodded and struggled to catch his breath with Frank’s added weight on top of him. They stayed that way for nearly five minutes, cuddling and catching their breath as the heat in the car slowly mounted. When it became unbearable, Frank finally sat up and helped to get Gerard’s clothing back in order—even pausing to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear and give him another gentle kiss on the mouth—then got out of the car. He quickly hurried around to the passenger side, reaching it just as Gerard was trying to open it, and opened it for him. 

Once the door was open, Frank offered Gerard his hand and smiled when the other man took it. Gerard had a slight limp as he made his way to the passenger door—which Frank also opened for him—and then grunted as he sank down into the seat. Frank leaned down and kissed him on the mouth one last time before going around to the driver’s side and getting in as well. 

“W-we really need to get back,” Gerard said when Frank started the car. It was past two and camp breakfast was served at seven-thirty—meaning the two counselors had to be up six-thirty to help prepare for the day.

“Yeah,” Frank said, looking over at Gerard and smiling lazily—remembering how they’d left things off when they were kids. He liked this better. Even if morning came and Gerard went back to acting like a shy, meek, socially awkward virgin, Frank would remember him like this: Eyes hazy, lips swollen and bruised, hair a mess—perfectly fucked out and exhausted. Even if morning came and Gerard wanted nothing to do with him and decided to disappear forever, Frank would hold on to this image. This memory of Gerard was his forever.

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank hadn’t wanted to part ways at the cabin. He kissed Gerard goodbye, then kissed him again—then stroked his hair and hugged him—and again and again. Gerard laughed at him and blushed, bowing his head and shushing Frank who kept telling him how good of a night he’d had and how he hoped they could meet up again sometime soon. 

Gerard didn’t seem to want to go into his cabin any more than Frank wanted to go back to his own, but they both needed sleep—though Frank knew he still had to shower. 

Eventually, though, he had to let Gerard go inside and walked back to his and Jason’s cabin by himself. Jason was asleep and Frank quietly collected a pair of pajamas and went to the showers to wash off—his mind of Gerard the look he’d had in his eyes since they’d made love in the back of the car. 

It had been a warm look—an affectionate one. Frank had had many hookups back in the dorms yet not any of those men or women had looked at him the way Gerard did…

Maybe he was just imagining it, Frank thought, but he felt certain that something else was behind that look. Maybe Gerard liked him too… Maybe it was more than like.

But Frank didn’t want to let his mind go there. He’d pegged Gerard as a shy, innocent person and that had proven wrong on so many levels within the last few hours. Frank’s instincts hardly seemed reliable after that. 

Even so, as Frank lay in bed staring at the ceiling, he couldn’t get his mind off Gerard—the way he looked, the way he smelled—how he sounded and how he acted. He began to wonder if Gerard would disappear the same way he had before, even if it had been distance and Gerard’s father who kept them apart the last time. 

Gerard, after all, hadn’t offered to give Frank his cell phone number or asked for Frank’s. But, then again, there was little to no service out here in the wood and Frank hadn’t even bothered with his phone except to use it to tell the time. 

With his mind spinning, Frank only got a couple hours of sleep before Jason’s alarm started going off and the senior counselor woke up.

“Wow—I didn’t think you were going to come back,” Jason said to Frank who groaned and wrapped himself up in his blankets, groggy and missing the sleep he’d lost. “I take it you and Gerard had a good time.”

“Whatever,” Frank moaned. 

Jason laughed at him and then started getting dressed.

“I’ll tell them you’re sick. Get some rest,” Jason added. Frank couldn’t express his gratitude—he’d already fallen back asleep.

( ) ( ) ( )

It was the last day of camp—for the counselors, not the children. The children had left the day before and the counselors had stayed to help clean up and participate in a couple closure meetings and pizza party. 

Once the kids were all gone, Gerard’s demeanor toward Frank shifted completely. He no longer sent Frank shy smiles from across the room or squeezed his arm as they walked past each other on a hike.

No.

During their last meeting, Gerard had sat beside him in the group circle and leaned his head over onto Frank’s shoulder—right there. Right in front of everyone. 

Jason had bust out laughing, covering his face and eventually even wiping a tear from his eye due to the humor. The others had not responded so favorably. Even Mrs. Katie pulled a face and Frank knew that neither he nor Gerard would be welcomed back next summer.

That was fine. Frank could think of about thirty different things he’d rather do with the free time than babysit a mess of kids. 

After the meetings—after the pizza party spent on the grass, slapping pieces of slimy cheese against Gerard’s face just to make him giggle and roll away—it was time to part ways. Again. 

Only this time, Gerard didn’t seem like he was about to disappear completely.

He’d given Frank his phone number and then texted him his address.

“I live with my brother, but he doesn’t mind if I have company,” Gerard said bashfully, keeping his head low. 

“Oh, he doesn’t mind you having company, huh?” Frank asked, stepping closer and putting his hands on Gerard’s hips. He rubbed them gently, then pulled Gerard against him, kissing his lips and laughing when Gerard blushed and turned his face away. 

“You…you should really come by sometime,” Gerard said.

“Sometime? I’ll be over tonight,” Frank said, whispering something a little more seductive into Gerard’s ear and then kissing his cheek. They hadn’t hooked up since the night they spent in the backseat of the car and Frank was eager for more—especially in a real bed.

“Maybe not tonight,” Gerard said with a soft chuckle, “but soon. Definitely soon.”

“Okay,” Frank said. “Your loss.” He kissed Gerard on the mouth one last time, then stepped back, preparing to let the other man get into his car. 

“Maybe next weekend you can stop by… I know a great place for coffee,” Gerard said.

“I’d like that,” Frank said, kissing Gerard’s cheek and backing off a step, forcing himself to let Gerard go—hoping to actually hear from him again once they’d parted ways. Gerard seemed dedicated, but Frank still wasn’t sure he’d ever see him again. 

It was painful once Gerard finally got into his little car and pulled away, waving goodbye briefly before pulling out of view down the long, gravel drive of the camp. 

Sighing, Frank got into his own car and put his key in the ignition. As he cranked the engine, he passed a glance upwards at the little superhero, Bruce, hanging from his rearview mirror. 

That was their friendship charm from all those years ago—Gerard’s promise to him that they would stay in touch, stay connected no matter what. 

He would see Gerard again. Frank was sure of it.


End file.
